Let the clouds part and the angels sing! I have been given a permanent reprieve from pulse steroids. Never again shall I taste their bitter taste and swell up with their terrible bloating.

(Apparently you can’t take them for more than two or three years, or else you risk getting brittle bones and/or losing your peripheral vision or some such thing. FINE BY ME! The past three years have been more than enough.)

More news soon on whether or not the latest MRIs show any improvement!

Way back in 8th grade, Quinland offered to make me something in his woodshop class. (The class was not, for the record, called Woodshop – it had a fancy name like Engineering Design, because they had to solve practical dilemmas with engineered solutions. But they also got to build stuff.)

I asked for two things: a cutting board for the kitchen (made of multiple pieces that fit together like a jigsaw puzzle) and a garden box for the deck. He made both. The cutting board got tons of use from Day One, but the garden box sat sadly outside for an entire year before I got around to planting a garden.

We have been purging household goods like crazy around here. We’ve sold tons of stuff on Craigslist already:

… and we still have stuff listed and ready to list.

It’s been crazy. Hundreds of dollars worth of crazy, mind you, but still crazy. It has taken up weeks and weeks of our summer already, and though it feels like the end is in sight with an upcoming garage sale, we still have so many things left to get rid of. Clothes. Shoes. Records. Posters. Books. CDs. DVDs. Knickknacks. Paddywacks. The list goes on.

What I am truly enjoying is the feeling of space that we have gained. Granted, our house is spacious enough, but all our stuff has always been visible – in your face, so to speak – since this house has so little hidden storage. Now, the number of things is starting to correlate with the amount of room, a state in which we have rarely found ourselves before.

I like it.

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